


If It Makes You Happy

by Excellency



Category: Hardcastle and McCormick
Genre: Gen, Law School, Smarm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 14:16:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7805002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Excellency/pseuds/Excellency
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I spent a year in law school, and the first semester I did get a great ticket to Phantom that I was really excited about, and then completely forgot about it doing my research project until the day after the show when a friend asked me about how it was. When I moaned about it to a guy at class one night, he told me his story about leaving his car locked and running.</p></blockquote>





	If It Makes You Happy

“You’re up awfully early,” Hardcastle observed, a hint of suspicion in his voice. Looking at Mark over his shoulder as he pulled a cereal bowl from the kitchen cabinet, he asked, “What’s the occasion?” 

“Early? Come on, Judge, it’s already eight!” McCormick stuffed another spoonful of slightly soggy corn flakes into his mouth and reached for the sugar bowl. Dumping two heaping spoon loads of sugar over the remains of the cereal in his bowl, he glanced up with a grin. “I know you old folks need more sleep, but this is a normal hour to find a dynamic, active person up and about.” 

“Uh huh. Well, I’m glad you’re a dynamic, active person, because there are more weeds than flowers in the beds and it’s about time you changed that. Shouldn’t take someone like you very much time at all.” Sitting down at the kitchen table, the judge tipped the box over his bowl, then peered inside irritably when barely half a cup of cereal landed in a forlorn little pile in the middle of his bowl. “And you can do some grocery shopping while you’re at it, too.” 

“No can do, Kemosabe. Gotta finish the research for my Civil Procedure class project today, we’re going into moot court on Monday.” Standing as he shoveled the dregs of his breakfast into his face, he dumped the bowl in the sink and headed out toward the front door. Just before it slammed, he called back, “Oh, and we’re out of milk too!” 

“McCormick!” Sitting back down grumpily, Hardcastle sighed, then tipped the small pile of corn flakes back into the box.  


* * *

Mark slid the heavy volume back onto the library shelf and checked his scribbled list for the next reference he needed. “584 Pacific, 2d....928....” he mumbled to himself as he moved down the stack searching for the right series. Locating the fat, well-worn book, he let it fall open to the pages accessed so many hundreds of times by law students ahead of him that the paper was thinner and the print faint at that case’s starting page. /You’d think they could come up with a new Shepard trail every few years,/ he groused to himself as he scanned the case. /It’s not so much fun if all I have to do is look for the most beat-up reference sources because every first year student for the last three decades has been using the same ones./ Finding the case had a paragraph that looked relevant to the theory he was developing about the issue, he carried it back to the table where he had spread out his stuff and started reading it over from the beginning, paying close attention to the details. Soon he was once again totally engrossed in the work, fascinated by the glimpse into someone else’s life and the way previous decisions influenced a single judgment so pivotal to the persons involved.  


* * *

It was well after dark when the Coyote’s distinctive engine sound reached the Judge, letting him know Mark had returned home. Setting aside the book he’d been reading, he rose and stretched, glancing at the clock over the den mantle. It was about dinner time, and he had decided earlier that this was a good night to order in a pizza so he had been waiting to make the call until he knew if Mark had eaten already. His ire from the morning had eventually worn off, replaced with a grudging acknowledgment that doing his own yard work was not so bad. It wasn’t anywhere near as fun or rewarding as chasing down perps and putting them behind bars, but at least the work kept him in shape for the time when Mark would be between semesters and they could resume their mission to assist justice. 

He also felt it was great that Mark was working hard at his school assignments without being pestered; the young man had been applying his natural enthusiasm to the coursework without any of the prompting or prodding that had always been necessary to get him to pay attention to the chores Hardcastle had tasked him with around the house. The older man never would have believed someone so devoted to action would turn out to have not merely an aptitude but an eagerness for the long, dry hours of study that law required. 

A small, reminiscent smile crossed his craggy features as he recalled his own law school years, and all the time he had spent exploring the intricacies of the legal records. The touch of pride he felt every time he consciously thought about Mark’s decision was something he kept carefully hidden from the younger man, but it warmed him inside at least once a day. The front door opened and McCormick’s voice called a greeting, interrupting his musing. “In the den,” he called in response. 

As Mark bounced down the steps and dropped a pile of notebooks on the corner of the desk, the judge pretended to be preoccupied with turning on the TV to catch the evening news. “How was your day?” he asked noncommittally. 

“It was great! I never thought I’d enjoy homework but I gotta tell you, Judge, this stuff fascinates me. I didn’t even notice how late it was getting until all of a sudden I realized I was starving.” He smiled, bemused at his own reactions. “It’s a hell of a lot of work, but I really think I’m going to do OK.” 

Damping down on his urge to grin delightedly, Hardcastle merely cleared his throat and said, “Pizza OK with you, then?” 

“Absolutely. Extra pepperoni, and no little fishes.” 

Picking up the phone, Hardcastle paused. “Oh, yeah, there were a couple calls for you today. When are you going to start using your own phone number? I’m not an answering service, you know.” 

Shrugging as he dropped into the couch, Mark sat back comfortably. “The machine’s busted again and I’ve been too busy to go get another one. Besides, you need the practice in talking to people younger than dirt, it’s good for your nonexistent social skills.” 

“My social skills are perfectly well developed for talking to people who have IQs higher than the average doorknob, unlike your friends, and get your feet off the table!” 

“I only gave the house number to a couple people.... who called?” 

“Somebody named Mindy. Isn’t she that blonde one with the crunchy-looking hair? She sounded pretty pissed off.” 

Mark’s eyes went impossibly wide, then he let out a wail of anguish before dropping his head into his hands and starting to mutter, “No, no, no, no. no....” 

“What?!” Hardcastle demanded, dropping the phone back into its cradle, worried at the sudden outburst. But McCormick didn’t answer, continuing his litany. “What is it?” the Judge demanded again, striding across the room and shaking Mark’s shoulder. “Damn it, what’s wrong?” 

When he finally looked up, Mark’s face was a study in misery, but he shook his head. “You’ll laugh,” he said unhappily, and stood up as if to leave. 

“I’m more likely to punch you if you don’t tell me what’s happened,” Hardcastle said impatiently, pushing him back down onto the sofa. “You are not going to act like this and then run off without telling me what is going on, so just spill it. Now.” 

“It’s not important now,” McCormick answered dejectedly, but all he got in return was that mulishly determined look he was so familiar with as the judge stood over him like a hovering wall. “Oh, all right,” he sighed, settling back with his shoulders slumped. “I forgot something.” 

“And it had something to do with Mindy. I’d figured out that much already from your histrionics, McCormick.” 

“You’re not going to let this one go, are you?” he asked rather plaintively. 

The Judge grinned unrepentantly. “Nope.” 

“OK, already. Remember that show I wanted to take her to?” 

“The Phantom, yeah. So what?” 

“I bought the tickets almost two months ago. Freddie had a job temping on the ticket hotline and he got me the most primo seats. Center, near the front for the first evening performance. Cost me $50 each! Judge, I paid over a hundred bucks for those tickets and then I forgot the show was today!” 

“Today?” Hardcastle asked, a little bit stunned himself. He recalled how excited Mark had been about getting the tickets for such good seats, and how he’d gone on and on about what a great date it would be. It had been a little while since he’d heard Mark mention it, but for about three weeks it had been the only thing the excitable student had talked about. 

Mark nodded miserably. “I got all caught up in that stupid group project research and totally spaced the show. Now I’m out the money for the tickets and Mindy will probably never speak to me again, and I can’t blame her. How could I do something so stupid?” 

“It’s not the end of the world, kid. You can find other things to take her to.” 

“That’s not the point! Yeah, the hundred bucks is a major drag, but the problem is I forgot something so important to me in the first place. What kind of lawyer am I going to be if I forget stuff like that?” 

Hardcastle shook his head, surprised again at the twist in Mark’s reasoning. “Don’t worry so much about it. Everybody does stuff like that, honest. Law school has a way of taking over your life that you don’t really appreciate until it’s too late.” 

Mark snorted with derisive skepticism. “Yeah. Like I believe you ever did anything this dumb.” 

The Judge chuckled. “Well, no, I didn’t. Not quite the same, anyway.” Mark glared at him, unamused. Relenting, he added, “So it didn’t cost me a hundred bucks. But it was just as dumb.” 

“Not that I don’t believe you,” McCormick said, a little of his spirit returning, “But prove it.” 

Settling himself next to the younger man on the couch, Hardcastle leaned back and let the memory surface. “I was taking evening classes and between working, having a home, and all the reading, I was stretched pretty thin. Toward the end of the second semester I remember one night I was so frazzled about finals coming up and the group project going on that when I pulled into the parking lot for classes, I got out, locked the car door, and headed for the building without noticing I’d left my headlights on. I didn’t even realize I’d also locked the keys inside until I got back outside three and a half hours later. Never occurred to me at all that something was odd until I reached the parking lot after classes were over and found the car with the lights still on.” 

“That’s it? You left your lights on and locked the keys in?” Mark demanded with umbrage. Then he squinted in sudden suspicion. “Wait a minute, how could the lights still be on over three hours later? You made that up; the battery would have been dead.” 

“I’d also left the engine running.” He grinned, enjoying Mark’s reaction. 

“And you didn’t even notice when you walked away?” McCormick asked, not quite sure he believed the story. 

“Nope.” 

A tiny chuckle escaped Mark, and soon he was giggling and then laughing. The judge let him enjoy the amusement at his expense, and couldn’t repress his own smile. It had been almost frightening at the time, realizing he was so preoccupied he could do something like that, but in retrospect he could see the humor. 

“OK, you win.” Leaning back, Mark shook his head ruefully but there was a twinkle in his eyes. “You’re a bigger donkey than I am.” 

“The point was, McCormick, that even though it’s a little overwhelming now, you get over it.” More grudgingly, he admitted, “You may even get good at it.” 

Raising an eyebrow at him in surprise, Mark asked, “What? Did I hear you expressing belief in me?” 

“I’ve always believed in you.” Covering up his discomfort at the admission, he added, “I always believed you could work harder than you did, that you could keep your mouth shut if only you’d try....” At the flash of disappointment in Mark’s eyes he added more softly, “I’ve always believed you could make me proud of you if you wanted to.” 

Instead of blushing at the sincere words, Mark’s eyebrows drew together in irritation as he repeated incredulously, “If I wanted to?” He glared at the Judge, a hint of pain touching his anger. “Where have you been? What is it going to take?” 

“What?” the Judge asked in confusion. 

“Don’t hand me that, you know what.” Serious blue eyes looked levelly across the small distance between them. “I have wanted to make you proud of me since I realized who you really were. I chose to go to school because I wanted to try it, but I wouldn’t have thought of it if I hadn’t known you and wanted to do something that would show you I was worth all the effort you went to.” He shrugged, suddenly embarrassed by his outburst, but then met the Judge’s eyes again, still determined to finish. “So tell me what I have to do to prove it to you, and I’ll do it.” 

“Nothing, Mark, nothing at all,” Hardcastle replied gruffly, his voice slightly roughened. He cleared his throat and added awkwardly, “I’ve been proud of you for a long time now, Mark. You don’t have to do anything but be yourself for me.” 

A small glitter of light at Mark’s eyes betrayed his reaction before he grinned, surfacing from the moment with his habitual blithe humor. “Guess I’ll just have to buy another pair of tickets if I ever want to speak to Mindy again.” 

Glad to be out of such deep waters with his dignity still relatively intact, the Judge pointed out, “If you have to pay her that much to be seen in your company, maybe you should reconsider your personal hygiene habits.” 

“Like you know from personal hygiene,” he snorted in response, relaxing back into the couch again, as happy as his friend to give their regular hazing his full attention. “Your appearance is an embarrassment to donkeys everywhere, you know that? Anyone who dresses like you do should be glad the average gas station will let him in. I bet even the guys who deliver pizza here are embarrassed to be seen at the door when you answer it.” 

“You’ll make a hell of an attorney some day, assuming you live that long.” He grinned widely. “After one of your barrages of nonsense the opposing counsel won’t know which of your idiotic statements to shoot down first.” 

“Learned from the best.” Mark smiled seraphically, and knew that he had, indeed. 

**Author's Note:**

> I spent a year in law school, and the first semester I did get a great ticket to Phantom that I was really excited about, and then completely forgot about it doing my research project until the day after the show when a friend asked me about how it was. When I moaned about it to a guy at class one night, he told me his story about leaving his car locked and running.


End file.
